by Amelia Grey
Her hope had been that once he started to see her among the ton he would soon become bored with her and seek another conquest. That thought caused a catch in her breath, but given her circumstances, it was the only answer that would be right for her.
Rather than guiding the horses along at a breezy pace, Chandler allowed the grays to clip slowly through the streets of Mayfair. As soon as they left sight of her aunt’s house, in typical rake fashion, Chandler moved closer to her on the seat so that with his knees wide apart his thigh was touching her dress.
So much for thinking he might behave like a gentleman.
Millicent could have sworn she felt his body heat through her clothing. She had plenty of room to move away from him in the carriage seat, but had no inclination to do so.
She popped open her delicate parasol, which was trimmed with tiny yellow ribbons that matched her dress and pelisse, and held it with one hand over her shoulder. Chandler looked over at her, winked, and smiled that roguish grin that melted her heart and made her wish things could be different between them. If he were not a rake and if she were not a gatherer of tittle-tattle, then perhaps affection could blossom between them.
“I fear you are a rogue even in church.”
“I have been. ‘Pray you, stand farther from me.’”
Shakespeare again. Chandler delighted her.
She let her gaze stray over his strong profile and dark-lashed eyes. “Indeed, sir. And when we first met you tried to make me believe that all I had heard about you wasn’t true.”
“It wasn’t. At least, not all of it,” he amended. “But, no matter, that’s in the past now. Since meeting you, I’m trying to mend my ways.”
“Heavens above. You can’t convince me that is true.” She sighed and shook her head indulgently. “I cannot believe that you were once worse than you are now. It’s simply unbelievable.”
“Scandalous, but true. Perhaps it’s best we don’t talk about my misspent youth today.”
“I think that is probably a good idea.”
“For a change, let’s talk about you.”
No, let’s don’t.
She turned toward him. His eyes were so clear, so blue, and looking directly at her. “Me?”
He smiled faintly. “Yes.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
There was something challenging in his gaze, and he met her stare-for-stare. “I think it is. I think it’s time.”
“You already know more than most,” she hedged.
“But not enough.”
Millicent turned away from him and remained quiet. It was awful, but she couldn’t tell him the truth.
She would love to tell him everything about her so there would be no secrets between them. There was nothing about her family or childhood she would keep from him, if not for her aunt. How could she tell him anything about her life? If he knew her father’s name, it would be only a matter of time before he discovered that Lady Beatrice was her aunt.
Millicent knew of her aunt’s fear of being exposed and losing her employment. Millicent couldn’t take the chance that Chandler might follow a snippet of information that would lead him to Lord Truefitt’s door.
“Tell me about your family, Millicent. Who was your father—other than the man who married your mother?”
“The person who is employing me thought it best if no one knows about me. For many reasons I can’t explain, I must keep it that way.”
Chandler nodded to an acquaintance and a few moments later waved to a friend in military uniform who passed them on horseback before giving his attention back to Millicent.
His expression was composed as he said, “You plead a good case.”
“It’s not just for me. There are others I must consider.”
“Do you know what the rumor is in Town about you?”
Millicent looked at him and laughed softly, playfully. There was no doubt in her mind that Chandler Prestwick, the earl of Dunraven, captivated her. If only he wasn’t so charming, she would allow herself to be completely entranced by him and allow him to take her heart. If only she weren’t working for her aunt. If only he wasn’t a rogue. Oh, if only there weren’t so many if onlys where Chandler was concerned.
“Of course I know what people are saying about me. I wouldn’t be very good at my employment if I didn’t know the answer to that. I’m considered a poor young lady from the country whose ailing mother imposed on an old acquaintance to give her daughter a Season in London in hopes of making a good match. Did I cover everything?”
“You are in the know.”
“It’s not difficult.”
Millicent slowly twirled the handle of her parasol between her hands and looked at the people and the buildings they passed. How could she not enjoy this sun-drenched afternoon riding in a carriage with Chandler?
“What do you think about what is being said about me? Do you think any of it is true?” she asked with a flirtatious lilt lacing her voice.
He looked at her with a mixture of amusement and cautious insight in his blue eyes. “I think you would marry only for love, not just to make a suitable match.”
She laughed again, more sweetly than before. “You are so very good at saying exactly what a lady wants to hear, my lord. You must have had a wonderful teacher.”
“Experience was my teacher. But am I right about you?”
“Decidedly so. I’ve turned down offers because I didn’t love the gentlemen who asked me to marry them.”
He threw a glance her way. “More than one, I see?”
“Hmm,” she answered without acknowledging she had turned down three offers.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They rode in silence for a few moments, listening only to the sounds of the busy streets, the creaks of carriage wheels, and the snorts of the horses.
Chandler said, “You don’t have to mention names, but tell me about your family.”
He wasn’t going to let it go, and she wasn’t going to give in. She found it impossible to resist his kisses, but on this subject she must remain firm. She would not jeopardize her aunt’s livelihood.
“It’s respectable.”
“I can see that no matter how hard I press you that’s all I’m going to get out of you?”
“Because of what I’m doing anonymity is essential. I honor it and I ask that you do, too.”
“All right. I’ll accept that, for now, but I don’t know for how long.”
His last two words were more muttered than spoken, and suddenly Millicent wondered if she should consider them a warning.
***
Chandler guided the horse through the west gate and onto the lane that led toward the Serpentine. Their curricle fell in line behind a fancy closed carriage that was driven by a liveried driver and drawn by a matching set of bays. The grassy areas of the park were packed with distinctively dressed gentlemen and elegantly fashioned ladies. Those wishing to see and be seen strolled the vast grounds while others rode horseback or drove carriages.
Chandler came to the park only because the ladies enjoyed it. Yet again he had the feeling that he’d much rather be riding in the countryside of one of his estates than the bustling Hyde Park.
The traffic was much too thick for his liking as he queued with the other carriages, so he said, “Let’s park over there and take a walk. All right with you?”
“I’d love it,” she answered.
As soon as the groom had hold of the horses, Chandler jumped down from the curricle and reached for Millicent. He saw uncertainty in her eyes. He wondered if she was worrying about how he’d behave, or that one day he wouldn’t take no for an answer when he asked about her family. And he’d given her plenty of reason to wonder. He wouldn’t take no for an answer much longer.
He wanted to encircle her small waist with his hands and lift her down but restrained himself and merely took her hand to steady her on the step. He couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, he’d enjoyed being with a woman as m
uch as he looked forward to being with Millicent.
She was seductive, playful, intelligent, and loyal to a fault. There was an alluring grace in every move she made, a promise in every smile she gave him.
When she placed her hand in the crook of his arm, he held her a bit too close, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to do so much more. He settled for a leisurely ramble, moving away from where most of the crowds had gathered to make sure they were noticed.
Who was she? Why did she spy for the gossips? That plagued him. No one could ever make him believe she was not a highborn, gentle-bred young woman. Yet, for some reason, she was at Lord Truefitt’s mercy.
Could he let that go on any longer?
“You’re very quiet,” Millicent said.
“I was just thinking about what you are doing for Truefitt.”
“That could be ominous.”
“Does it always work the way it has for you?”
An easy, natural smile curved her lips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You told me you were not spying for Truefitt for the money, nor because he was forcing you, so the way I see it, there can only be one other reason you would consent.”
“And what would that be?”
“Your family can’t afford a Season for you, so Lord Truefitt found someone to sponsor you, someone who had actually met your mother so that you will be properly chaperoned. He takes care of all the expenses for your Season in exchange for the gossip you provide him to write his column.”
“It seems you have it well thought out.”
“I can see where it would be profitable for both of you. He obtains the gossip he needs and you are afforded the opportunity for a chance at a good match.”
“I have no idea how other columnists work. I can only verify that what you just explained is somewhat close to my arrangement with Lord Truefitt.”
“Somewhat close you say?”
“Yes.”
“So there’s more?”
The threat of another smile fluttered her delectable mouth. “Or, maybe things are just different from the way you have imagined them to be.”
Chandler chuckled lightly under his breath. How could he gain her favor, her trust? Why did he want to? They could have no future together.
“For a young lady who listens to everything that is said around her, you know how to reveal nothing.”
She smiled faintly, looking into the distance before glancing back at him and saying, “It’s a gift of the trade.”
There was that seductive grace again. Chandler felt his chest expand with wanting. When she looked at him like that and made a simple statement so innocently, he was knocked off his feet.
“Sometimes you look as innocent as a church mouse, and it drives me to madness, and I think you enjoy every moment of it.”
She smiled. “I enjoy you.”
Chandler’s heart tripped. He saw honesty in her eyes and heard it in her voice. She wasn’t just trying to flatter him. And he could have sworn her eyes flashed a “come hither” look that made him light-headed with joy.
He reached over and took hold of her hand that rested in the crook of his arm and gently squeezed. Damn the gloves. Damn convention. Damn Society. He wanted to feel her silky skin without the layers of cotton between them. He wanted to see her beautiful body completely unclothed. He wanted to touch her silken thighs and suckle her firm breasts. He wanted to—no, he had to stop that kind of thinking. It was getting difficult to walk.
He lightly shook his head and cleared his throat. If he was going to get through the afternoon without ravishing her, a change of topic was in order.
“You know, you really should have told me my friend Andrew Terwillger was the earl you thought had spent his inheritance and was looking to make a wealthy match.”
“I thought about it, but I couldn’t take the chance that you would have warned him.”
“What would have been the harm if I had?” He remembered choking on the tart. “It was quite a shock for both of us.”
“But true. I have it on good authority.”
“I spoke to Andrew about it just this morning, but I didn’t mention to him that you hinted he might be the thief among us. I don’t think the poor fellow could have stood the blow. You need to keep him out of your column.”
“You know I can’t do that. If I hear something that is scandalously intriguing, I must write about it.”
“I’ve known him for fifteen years. I think I would know if my best friend had squandered his money. I’ve seen no change in his lifestyle.”
“Perhaps there’s a reason there’s been no change,” she responded quickly.
Chandler was firm. “He did not steal the raven. He would not steal from me or anyone.”
Millicent remained calm, unperturbed. “Desperate men attempt dangerous things.”
He simply said, “Millicent.”
She looked up at him and relented. “However, I apologize if you think I was accusing your friend of being the Mad Ton Thief. I was merely pointing out possibilities.”
“In this case, there is no likelihood he’s involved. If he were having trouble with his finances, he would come to me. Besides, there must be dozens of titled gentlemen who’ve been gamblers and spendthrifts with their inheritances.”
“But, did they attend your party?”
Chandler stopped and turned her to face him. “You may have something there. My dear Millicent, you are not only beautiful, but clever, too. I’ll have Doulton check into who among the ton, is in debt, and we’ll see if any of those names show up on the lists where there have been robberies.”
“That’s a very good idea, sir. If there is not a stranger among the ton and it appears there isn’t, then the Mad Ton Thief has to be someone’s friend.”
He looked down at her and an urgent need to possess her filled him. She wasn’t right for him. He wasn’t good for her, but still he wanted her. “I could kiss you right here in front of everyone within sight of us.”
She stepped away and her eyes flashed a warning. “Do not try to do that, Lord Dunraven.”
“All right, I’ll wait until I get you behind a tree.” He took her arm and slipped it through his arm again and continued their walk, but faster this time.
“There are no trees nearby.”
“No reason to sound so disappointed.” He smiled wickedly at her and winked. “There will be in a few minutes. I know the perfect spot.”
“I am not disappointed, sir,” she argued, but not with any real conviction. “And how dare you think to escort me to a place where you’ve kissed dozens of girls.”
He kept his tone light. “You are hard to please. Now you sound jealous.”
“And you, sir, are a cad.”
“But a likable one.”
She stopped. “Yes. You are incorrigible. It’s true and it’s my misfortune.”
“And my good luck.”
Suddenly Millicent turned away from Chandler and pulled on the crook of his arm with her arm, forcing him to turn around and head in the opposite direction.
“What are you doing?” he asked, not using any strength to stop her from guiding him.
“Not today, my lord. I will not let you endanger my reputation this afternoon. We are going to make this a proper outing if it kills us.”
He looked down into her eyes with appreciation and admiration. “All right. Today you win. No matter that I want to kiss you madly, I will respect your wishes.”
She took a solid breath. “Thank you for that small consideration.”
“You’re welcome.” He liked that she didn’t try to punish him for being forward.
Oh, hell, what don’t I like about her?
They started walking toward the carriage. “We need to return to the subject of Lord Truefitt’s column, because there’s something else you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“Andrew is thinking of hiring a Runner to find out who Lord Truefitt is so that he can
expose him.”
“Oh, no! That would be disastrous. You can’t let your friend do that.”
Chandler didn’t like seeing real fear in her eyes. Would there be harm to her if Truefitt was revealed? He wondered again what could be between Millicent and the gossip writer. He didn’t know, but it was time he did something to find out what hold he had over Millicent.
“You must tell Truefitt to keep Andrew out of the column and perhaps his temper will cool down. I’ll do what I can, but Andrew has a mind of his own. I do believe he is serious about this.”
“Thank you for telling me.” Her voice was soft, uncertain, grateful. “I know you didn’t have to confide in me.”
What was it he once heard? A happy, gratified woman knows no bounds in love. He had to stop thinking of things like that. It took him places he wasn’t prepared to go.
“Quite frankly, I don’t care what happens to Truefitt, but I don’t want you hurt by anything that Andrew might do.”
Millicent smiled sweetly at him again. “Thank you. I’m indebted to you.”
Wonderful.
“I’ll think of some way you can repay me.”
“No doubt.” She shook her head resignedly. “Why is it every time I convince myself that you are a true rake you do something astonishingly kind like this?”
“I’ve told you that I know how to behave as a gentleman, at times. Now, if you can’t write about Andrew, I assume you will have to put me back in the cursed daily column.”
“You are a favorite.”
“How about Fines? He’s only been in a time or two recently, or surely there is someone who would love to be mentioned and has felt neglected.”
Her eyes brightened like fire glowing in amber. “Chandler, that is a marvelous idea.”
“Marvelous? What?”
“Mentioning someone who has never or seldom been in the column.”
“Good lord, you’re not telling me that the reason my name always shows up is because they haven’t thought of naming someone else?”
Her lips twitched into a stunning grin. “Don’t try to be dim-witted. You are much too intelligent.”
He loved it that she made no effort to hide her teasing. “And you are far too intelligent for your own good.”